


With These Hands

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, First time?, Masturbation, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Denmark shows her what her hands are capable of.
Relationships: Denmark (Hetalia)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	With These Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr blog: tea-pettiest

Mathias lounged back on the log, contented.

He’d feasted, drank, and now in the cozy warmth of the camp’s fire, he was free to watch his men mill about the camp. The loot from the village they’d razed was plentiful, some things useful, and some things beautiful – which would come in handy with who Mathias had his eye on. One of the women from the village; also beautiful.

He’d been eyeing her all night, and she’d fallen into her new role as a servant quite readily. Those lips were pressed into a neutral line, though he got the sense that if he were to goad her into speaking her mind, that they’d spread into a snarl. 

The thought made the beginnings of a smile start at his lips. 

He’d had many a good woman at the shores he’d arrived at, many he’d had sweaty and mewling beneath him, not so sore on his presence in their land after all. Despite how his soldiers were, he was always careful about this – he would not take a woman who was unwilling to lie with him.

He wondered if this one would.

He caught her eye – and wow, what eyes, shiny like gemstones and wise like the stars. They looked almost out of place on a maiden. He jerked his chin up and as she made her way over to him, a jug of mead in her hands, he couldn’t contain his smile anymore.

She did a little curtsy for him, though he noticed how she kept it as shallow as she could without risking a beating.

He almost wanted to tell her that she could act freely around him; he did not like to raise his hands against women. They were too soft. Too delicate. What had he to benefit from hurting the creatures he only wanted to create pleasure with?

She raised the jug and looked confused when Mathias didn’t raise his cup.

“ _Kvinde_ , what is your name?”

She watched him for a few moments. Those lips of hers twitched into a small frown.

“Why do you want to know?”

He laughed jovially, delighted. This one had iron in her blood.

“I’ve been watching you all night. Did you notice?”

She swallowed and her eyes went to the ground. 

The furrow in her brow was so intense it was impossible to construe the expression as meek.

“Many men have been watching me, what’s one more?”

This was true. Mathias knew if he did not keep her close tonight, someone else would; and they would not be like him. He also knew if he asked her, she’d deny him, like the brute she assumed him to be. 

He had but one choice.

“I’m ready for bed I think,” he studied her face and watched as the color drained from it. “Come with me.”

He kept his face impassive as he rose from his seat. 

He didn’t look behind him; he knew she’d follow, and she did. He took his ax but left his cup – his tent was only a little ways away. Far enough that the night disguised it from the flickering light of the campfire, but close enough that he could not be ambushed without his men knowing.

He went into his tent and set his ax down next to the conglomerate of pelts and furs – where they were to sleep. She followed him in a few moments later. He saw that she was trembling. She was not crying, and her mouth was tight again; though he saw that her eyes shined in the candlelight. 

Mathias started to shuck off his armor, leaving it in a pile by his ax. She knelt by the entrance, still shaking. He said nothing, and then in just his trousers, he leaned back into the furs, one arm beneath his head to cushion it. She was still waiting.

“Do you plan on sitting through the night? Lay down.”

From his peripheral vision, he watched her lay down, but from the lack of warmth, he could tell she’d scooted to the far edge of the tent.

He sat up, and from his own bed of furs, he took several pelts. She watched him carefully, the phantom of a flinch disturbing her form every time he made a sharp movement.

He placed them in front of her, conscious to not do so too roughly.

“Make a bed from these. It’ll be more comfortable than sleeping on the ground. Warmer too, though it’s not so cold.” 

She looked at the pelts distrustfully and did not touch them until his limbs had returned to the confines of his own bed. 

Mathias lay on his back, his free hand draped loosely across his stomach. His skin was warm, probably from sitting in the presence of fire all night. He felt feverish. If she got cold, he could give her another fur. He thought of telling her that; he doubted she’d ask even if she were freezing.

When he saw that she was laying down, he noticed she still had her shoes on. He was going to tell her she could take them off but realized asking her to undress to any degree would’ve made her think the worst. Instead, without looking at her, he asked; “You’re not cold?”

“No.” 

Her voice was low. Soft. He hoped to hear it again.

Mathias gave a short nod and blew out the candle, drenching the inside of the tent in dark. As soon as he had, he regretted not watching her more; her face had been nice, the curves beneath her dress, also nice. They were silent. He could only hear his own breathing. Was she holding her breath? He turned on his side to face her – her image rendered into a dark, featureless mass. 

She jolted at the sound of his movement.

“I will not touch you,” he began, “if you do not wish me too.”

She didn’t answer.

“You can just lay here and sleep,” he continued.

She still didn’t answer, though he thought he saw her settle deeper into the furs.

They were silent for a few moments.

He cleared his throat, and though he knew she’d hate him for it, he couldn’t help but ask the question aching in his throat. 

“Have you ever lain with a man?”

They were technically laying together, but she got his real meaning well enough.

“No. I -” she swallowed, “no.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. I’m a virgin.”

“You started to say something and stopped.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Speak your truth.”

The dark tent was quiet for a few more moments. 

“’Lain’ is so specific,” she started and Mathias looked over to her, intrigued. “you can lay with a man without ever being touched. You can have been touched without laying with a man.”

He tried to ignore the way his arousal started coursing through him.

“Have you been touched?”

She hesitated.

“I have.”

“Did you like it?” 

It was a strange question, but he was genuinely curious.

When she spoke again, she sounded pensive, and no longer afraid. Mathias felt his heart singing at this development.

“I don’t know. Not really.”

“What does that mean?”

He saw her silhouette bounce her shoulders in a shrug, against the deep blue backdrop of the dark tent.

“The man who touched me was inexperienced. His hands were clumsy.”

Mathias nodded. “I see.”

“I think it could be nice.”

Mathias felt his trousers tighten at the crotch, and he resisted the urge to slip his hand beneath the waistband. 

“It is, with the right person.”

She didn’t answer.

“Sometimes, you can be your own right person too, _ja_?”

He felt sweat bead at his forehead and prickle at his chest. He was hot, restless. He didn’t want to scare her. He thought stone thoughts and kept his hands still. Oh, to be a eunuch. His cock ached with the need to be touched.

“I don’t know…I don’t know what to do either. My hands are probably just as clumsy.”

Outside someone shrieked by the fire, and the sounds of men’s’ voices laughing and cheering seeped into their quiet tent. 

Mathias gave it a few moments before he spoke again. When he did, he felt foolish at what he said – he didn’t even know why he said it. He didn’t even know if a woman could _tend_ to herself the same way a man could. He couldn’t see why they couldn’t though.

“Have you tried?”

The silence that followed was terse. Mathias refrained from even breathing too hard. 

If he made even the slightest move, he’d bet she’d go running from the tent.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she finally said.

“Well, surely you know where…” he swallowed, “where the man is supposed to go.”

“Yes.”

“That’s your…destination.” 

Yes, this made sense, he thought.

“I can go…elsewhere, before?”

Mathias found himself nodding though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“Yes – I think it’s better to…wander, before arriving at your destination. I’ve…I’m told it’s more pleasant for women that way.”

“Have you been with many women?”

The answer for some reason was lodged in his throat. He didn’t know why. Usually he liked to tell people about the women he’d lain with – lined up like conquests in his memory. Here, he suddenly felt shame.

“Yes.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“And did you…wander?”

“I try to.”

“For how long?”

He felt his face heating in the dark. He wondered if hers was too.

“Their…your body should tell you.”

“How will I know?”

“It’s…well, the _destination_ should be wet and…relaxed. It shouldn’t have to hurt to take a man in, especially not after the first time.”

“Does it hurt when you-“ her voice broke off.

“I hope not. I try to make it so it doesn’t. I think I’ve done well.” 

He hoped they’d tell him if he hadn’t. Now suddenly Mathias was running through his history of impassioned nights; were those sounds genuine? Did her face crumple in ecstasy or pain?

Neither of them spoke for a while. Arousal still held Mathias rigid in his bed; he felt like a corpse, hardening after the breath had long since left his body. He was wide awake, staring up at the darkness in his tent, and trying not to think of her _destination_ , wet and a few feet away.

After what could’ve been minutes or hours, he heard rustling from her bed. The slip of fabric. He could see her silhouette place something stiff-looking beside her bed. Mathias ventured it was a corset or something of similar functionality. While he was still terribly restless and desperately horny, he couldn’t help but smile at the idea of her getting comfortable. 

This smile only lasted a few moments. He expected her form to still, and for the lulling sound of a sleeper’s breath to start up. Instead, she kept moving. Her breath roughened, not softened.

He was confused. He could see short, twitching movements. The sound of more fabric sliding against skin, and his throat went dry. He turned his head, and saw the clear swell of breasts etched out against the side of the tent. Her nipples were stiff, little buds silhouetted. 

He watched dark shapes move quickly, flittingly over them. They would brush over them, and she would gasp. He recognized the sound well.

“You don’t have to be shy – they’re your hands, your body. Try pinching them.”

Her figure startled in the dark and now bold shadowy figures curled inwards over her breasts. 

_Skide idiot_ , he mentally kicked himself.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said quietly.

“I should be,” he admitted. “I won’t touch you,” he said again.

The fluttered silence carried on, and then he heard her shift and those flitted figures came back. He watched them close around the shadows cast by the hardened peaks of her breasts. Mathias heard her whimper and his cock throbbed.

“ _Oh_ , th-that’s nice.”

He could practically hear the blush in her voice. 

Mathias grinned. 

“Hold them, in your palms.” He heard more rustling. “Feel that? That…weight?”

“I do.”

He couldn’t stop grinning. “Isn’t it great?”

He could’ve sworn he heard her scoff.

“Now what?”

“What do you want to do? How do you feel?”

There was some quiet as she struggled to dictate something so new.

“Hot. And…empty. Like I want something –“

He clenched his jaw and his fingers twitched. 

He knew what she meant but he couldn’t resist. 

“Like you want something where?”

He could hear her pant slightly.

“I-Inside.”

“You could keep one hand on your…where it is now and use the other to reach up your skirts.”

He heard some shuffling.

“Its…my skirts are heavy and I-“ she hesitated, “can you…help me?”

Mathias sat up and felt blindly around in the dark until he felt the beginnings of her fur bed. He was so hard that it hurt to move, to breathe, to be close to her and not touch her. 

His fingers brushed the fabric in the dark and she gasped.

“I think I’ve found them,” he murmured. “I’m going to start now.”

“P-Please.” 

His cock twitched.

Slowly, he dragged the heavy material of her skirts up. 

He felt her shift beneath him and imagined her clamping her thighs shut. He raised it above her knees and his knuckle grazed her thigh. She jolted.

“I’m sorry – it was an accident.”

“It’s okay.”

He knew to stop when he caught the musky scent of woman swirling around his face. He tucked the blankets gently by her hip, careful not to touch her.

Then he returned to his own bed. 

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?”

“When to stop?”

“I could smell it.”

“ _Me?_ ” 

She sounded mortified. 

“ _Ja_ , but it’s no big deal. Sex smells.” He took her silence as her not being convinced. “Most men love the smell of woman.”

He heard further rustling.

“So I just…touch it now?”

“ _Ja_ , if you’d like.”

“How do I know if I’m doing it right?”

He chuckled at this. It was sort of sweet, her innocence.

“If it feels good, then you’re doing it right.”

“Oh.”

He waited for a few moments. He wished he could be the one pleasuring her. Showing her what it was to have a man fulfill her needs. He should hardly get to reap the treasures of her body before she’d discovered them for herself though.

He let his eyes flutter shut, and his own hand dipped beneath the waistband of his trousers as the last of his resolve crumbled.

He imagined her spread for him.

“You could start by running your finger along it.”

His own hand grasped his member, and he slunk his hand over the length of it.

“ _Ah_!-“ she gasped and there was a flurry of movement. 

He imagined her legs shaking.

“It’s so _wet_.”

“That’s good,” his voice was tight as he struggled to conceal his own desire. “It should be really wet, and relaxed. Don’t be afraid to dip your fingers in a bit more.”

He heard a soft, wet sound as she continued to touch herself.

“I just keep doing this?”

“You can, but there’s something specific-“

She moaned loudly, suddenly, and he watched as her silhouette arched.

“Did you feel that?”

“It was so _intense_.”

Mathias chuckled, “Yes, but did you notice what your fingers touched?”

“Something…small. And sort of buried, but really sensitive.”

“Yes,” his own hand jerked himself, setting an even pace. “That’s an important spot for women. Touching that more is good, but you should be gentle since it’s so sensitive.”

He listened to her body writhe on the pelts, her breaths occasionally rising to a sort of whine.

“Now, you might be ready to…insert your finger.”

“Where the man goes?”

“ _Ja_.”

An image of himself buried between her thighs flashed in his mind, and his hand pumped himself faster.

“Feel around like you were before. Do you feel a sort of…dip?”

Now the silence was punctuated by her wetness as she ran her fingers through her folds.

“I think I’ve found it.”

“Good. That’s where you should start pressing your finger.”

A few more moments of quiet followed, and then she yelped.

“Ah, it’s…I think I’m doing it wrong.”

“It takes practice,” he reassured her. 

There were another few moments of silence.

“I can’t…it’s…” she sounded frustrated and needy. “Can you…help me?”

He swallowed, and his hand froze. His cock throbbed painfully. He thought he might die.

“I know you said…but I want to know. Can you…?”

He hesitated. 

“Are you sure?” 

His heart thudded in his chest, and suddenly that heat had sprung at his skin again. 

“Please.”

He sat up and eased closer to her again. He felt her body heat and then an instance later, he felt the back of his hand brush her. She shivered.

“It’s okay, _elskede_ ,” he soothed. 

He reached to grasp her thigh, just above the knee, and she moaned.

“G-go ahead,” she gasped, and he inched his hand higher and higher. 

He felt the generous plushness of her.

“Please be gentle though,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he swallowed the urge to press a kiss to her forehead. He felt her thick curls and had to stifle a moan himself. He loved this part of women – so secret and different from the rest of them. He searched around in the wiry curls until he felt a sliver of wetness and she gasped.

He felt her hips raise, and he moved his fingers closer so she could rut against his hand. Her smell got stronger.

“Ah, _dejlig_.”

She breathed hard, and he stroked her for a few moments. 

“Is this okay?”

“Better.”

“Should I go in?”

“Y-yes.”

He traced around the seam of her cunt until he found what he was looking for. 

“My fingers are…bigger than yours, so it might feel… a little different. You might feel a little stretch, but if it hurts tell me.”

He heard a small movement and guessed she was nodding her understanding.

He started to ease one finger into her. He moved slowly, giving her time to adjust. 

In almost no time at all though, his index finger was knuckle deep inside of her. 

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

He felt her clench around him, experimentally.

“I feel…good.”

Mathias smiled. “Good.”

“But, not…full enough.”

His cock twitched. That would fill her for sure.

“I’m going to start moving, and if that’s okay, I can add another finger if you’d like.”

He started pumping his finger in and out, each pump yielding a lewd, wet sound.

“You can _hear_ it,” she whimpered.

“It’s a good sound.” 

She moaned and rocked her hips against his hand. 

Oh fuck, his own arousal flared, and he had half a mind to reach into his pants and jerk himself off while he fingered her.

“Can you…add another finger?”

“Of course,” he said. _Anything for you_ , he wanted to say.

His next finger met with some resistance, and he paused halfway through, to make sure she adjusted okay. The sounds from this coupling were much louder, and her tight wet heat would haunt him and his raging hard-on.

She moaned more loudly and arched her back.

“Yes, that’s – _oh_!”

“And, if I go a little faster…” he picked up the pace slightly, and then he felt something warm grasp his wrist, moving with him as if trying to get him to go faster.

“Yes, please, yes!” she chanted.

“Now how do you feel?”

“Hot, and…sort of shivery…like there are butterflies in my stomach and they might g-get out.”

“That means you’re close to being done,” his voice was hoarse with want.

“O-Oh. How do I…?”

“I’ll show you.”

He hilted his fingers and then brought a thumb to her slit. She practically vibrated at the end of his fingers.

“Remember that spot I said was important, earlier?”

“Yes?”

“If you combine both of these…techniques, then…” 

He found her clit with almost no trouble, and gently brushed the pad of his thumb across it. She bucked her hips into his hand and he felt wetness seep onto him. He pumped his fingers and kept moving his thumb in delicate little circles.

“ _Ah_!-“ she practically screamed, “That’s-“

He kept up his ministrations, feeling how she clenched around him. The squeezing was becoming more and more frequent – she really was close. She drew her legs up, drawing them up around her chest and giving him more room.

“Yes, _god pige_ ,”

“It’s too-“

“Hush, it’s okay,” he soothed, “let all that tension go. Let go and come for me.”

“Oh, but I-“

He pumped a few more times, and his thumb focused its quick movements against her little bundle of nerves. Then, she did come. He felt those powerful muscles squeeze his fingers, and he kept pumping, determined to work her through her orgasm.

“Oh, it’s so-“

The wet sounds of him in her contest with her mewling cries and whimpers. He slowed when her writhing stopped and her body stilled, save for the heaving thrust of her chest as she fought to catch her breath.

He gently removed his fingers from her, and she sighed, shuddering into him at the drag of him against her oversensitive sex.

“How was it?”

While he waited for an answer, he went to clean up. 

He had half a mind to suck her off of his fingers, but then decided against it, and wiped it on his trousers. In the dark, he fumbled as he tried to light a candle. 

When he finally succeeded the tent burst in a warm, yellow glow.

It was silent outside now. 

Inside, he could still hear her breaths, slowing to normal now. He looked at her. She was glowing – a light sweat made her shine in the dim light, and it spiced the air with a tang that mingled with the musk of sex. She was still wearing her dress, but with the stay out, the loosened ties at the front wrapped at her bare breasts, making them look like she was bursting from her dress. She wrapped her arms around herself half-heartedly, shy but too tired to do much about it. Her skirt was bunched at her waist, her legs spread, and sex gleaming with the same wetness that beaded at her thighs.

“It was good. Better than…that other time.”

“I’m glad.”

“Now I feel empty on the outside.”

Cold?

Mathias grabbed a fur off his own bed, ready to drape it over her.

“Not cold,” she watched his movements, and when he froze, she flushed, her eyes going to the obvious tent at his groin. “It’s like I…want to be held. Near someone.”

“I see.”

When he still didn’t move, she sat up. 

Mathias could only watch her, mutely as she clumsily got on all fours, with whatever strength she had left, and clambered towards him. They locked gazes. He was waiting, she looked stubborn. Slowly, she reached for him, placing her hand on his thigh.

At the feeling of her light grasp, he almost passed out. Then she was moving closer, shifting onto his lap. She was practically sitting on top of his erection, and once she settled in, he wrapped his arms loosely around her. She was warm, and so, so soft.

He felt a fluttered motion at his back, and when he looked over his shoulder, he saw that she was holding him back.

She nuzzled closer to him, and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

He sat patiently with her – and suddenly, that painful hardness at his groin was all too easily ignored, with the perfume of her hair to wash it away. They sat there in the flickering light until the night washed out into a milky sunrise.


End file.
